


You're Such A

by notzemo (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crackfick, Fluff, I swear to God, M/M, idk if that needs tagging??, listen, there's fighting but it's all in good fun so, this is the stupidest thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7230349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/notzemo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zemo and T'Challa like to fight and be competitive to each other</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Such A

**Author's Note:**

> In the words of the ever-so-eloquent America Chavez: "The laws of physics can kick my ass"

 

Zemo stretched his arms and cracked his fingers. He took a deep breath, tilted his head, smirked, and started running. He threw a kick but got blocked, and then threw a quick punch, hitting T’Challa. He grabbed his arm and immobilized it behind his back. Zemo jumped, throwing his feet behind him, kicking the T’Challa, who let him go. He turned in a swift movement and now he was facing the wakandan again. He smirked, and before Zemo had time to think, he punched him in the stomach. Grabbing his head, he made him do a flip and the sokovian fell flat on the floor, moaning in pain.

  
“I told you you couldn’t fight a king,” T’Challa mocked, a sly grin on his face. He stretched out his arm to help him get up, but Zemo pulled it and twisted his hand, and the king fell on the ground next to him. “You were saying,” Zemo taunted, and T’Challa gave him a soft punch on the arm.

 

* * *

 

“Move,” T’Challa said. “I won’t ask again.”  
Zemo raised his eyebrows, defying him, and went back to reading his book. T’Challa took a step back and then tried to jump onto the bed, but Zemo grabbed his shirt and threw him on the ground with a bored expression. He fake-yawned, and went back to his book, a smirk on his face. T’Challa wasn’t going to let that stand, oh no. He was going to have his spot on the bed.

  
He tried to enter from the end of the bed, but Zemo kicked him in the face and threw him on the floor. He rolled onto the bed and Zemo pushed him away. He stood up and his boyfriend raised his legs and tried to kick him away, but couldn’t do it. So he rapidly got up and after a brief fight T’Challa was back on the floor, and Zemo was back to his spot - right in the middle of the bed.

  
T’Challa cursed himself for letting Zemo train with him and the Dora Milaje - wait. That was it. He sprinted out of the room, and the sokovian thought he’d won, but a minute later his room was raided. The guards, overpowering him, threw him on the floor, letting the king rightfully be on his throne, or, in this case, bed. T’Challa threw Zemo the book he was reading, and he spent the rest of the afternoon reading on the floor.

 

* * *

 

 

“A race?”

  
Zemo nodded. “Unless you’re afraid,” he said in a snarky tone. T’Challa laughed. “Fine,” he said, shrugging. It wasn’t going to be hard, he thought. And at least he could have some fun mocking Zemo afterwards.

  
They asked one of the nearest guards to do the countdown, and as soon as she said ‘go’ they both took off.  
“We didn’t decide on the finish line,” Zemo said after a few seconds. T’Challa smiled. “Just go through there,” he said, pointing at a place filled with trees. “There’s a fountain after, and we’ll finish there.”

  
Zemo nodded, and went back to his race. They were almost shoulder to shoulder, though if he wanted, T’Challa could be way ahead. Once they got to the trees, T’Challa made use of his skills to disappear without leaving a trace. He climbed one of the trees and waited. His boyfriend noticed his absence a few seconds later. He stopped and looked around, trying to see T’Challa. “My love,” Zemo asked, jogging around, “where are you?”

  
He said something under his breath but T’Challa couldn’t quite understand what he had said, though it didn’t matter. He waited for Zemo to stop walking. Once the sokovian was still, T’Challa jumped from the tree he was on and tackled Zemo, throwing both of them on the floor, with Zemo under him.

  
“I thought I was lost,” Zemo said, smiling, his legs trapped between the wakandan’s. T’Challa leaned down and gave him a soft kiss. In the blink of an eye, he got up and started racing, leaving Zemo on the ground. He got up quickly, but T’Challa was already nowhere to be seen.

  
“Son of a-” he said, shaking his head and starting to run again. When Zemo got to the fountain, T’Challa was there, sitting down, smiling. And, looking at the his boyfriend’s look of defeat, he couldn’t help but laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

He had to admit, having his dinner always ready and prepared by a chef was extremely nice. He wanted to say he missed home-cooked food or he missed cooking, but that would be lying. “Kings sure do live well,” Zemo said, when T’Challa called him for dinner.  “Where did you think the expression ‘living like a king’ came from?” he asked, looking at Zemo, eyebrows furrowed. Zemo shrugged - he had a point.

  
Their room was three floors down from the dining room. Even though there was an elevator, they always took the stairs. And this time, as it often happened, they started racing downstairs. T’Challa usually got there first, but there had been a few times where Zemo, like he oh so liked to say, trying to annoy him. Although, in his royal manner, T’Challa would just smile and give him an endearing look, which drove Zemo crazy.

  
Except this time Zemo fell down the stairs, and when his boyfriend looked back to make sure he was okay, he pulled his leg, making T’Challa fall also. They got up at the same time and started racing again, only one floor left to go. Zemo stumbled through the steps and they finally got on the right floor. Seeing that Zemo was in front of him, and only a few seconds away from the dining room, T’Challa tackled him, and they both tumbled inside. The chief of security, upon this image, facepalmed, and the guards did their best to hold in their laugh.

  
They both got up as fast as they could, and, trying to regain their composure, walked like nothing happened.

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, do you think I should do a tumblr dedicated to Z'Challa? Would anyone follow that?


End file.
